14 Steele & the City
by SteeleHere44
Summary: Story 14 Laura, Mr. Steele and New York. Mildred stays in LA this time.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:

Remington Steele and its characters are owned by MTM. No copyright infringement intended. For entertainment purposes only.

Set after Season 4. Bonds of Steele and Season 5 don't exist in my universe.

Chapter 5

The wind was slowly returning, moving them closer to Santa Barbara. They'd finally achieved a respectable speed, and after returning to LA, they decided to make a detour by the office, just to be sure everything was in order there.

"Mildred! What are you doing still here?" asked Laura very surprised to find the secretary sitting at Mr. Steele's desk.

"Mr. Steele, Mrs. Steele! You came back safe! I was worried something bad had happened! It's so late!"

"Nothing happened, Mildred," answered Mr. Steele. "I told you we were going to enjoy a sailing day. And that's just what we did."

"You said a sailing day, chief. It's 9:30 in the evening. I was beginning to worry. You could have told me it was going to be a long ride, you know..."

"You didn't have to wait at the office, Mildred. Did something unusual happen?" asked Laura.

At this very moment, Mr. Steele, who was standing behind Laura, started to move his hands clearly indicating Mildred to spare them the explanations. If something barely urgent had happened in their absence, and Laura found it out, this could be their first and last sailing adventure on a workday. And it had turned out to be a romantic escapade worth to repeat. Mildred caught the hint and got herself aligned beside Mr. Steele's idea. But she didn't want to miss the occasion to try for an addition to her salary or maybe to receive a retelling about the precious time her bosses had spent together. Opportunities like those didn't come along very often.

She answered then, "Something unusual? Nooo… I held on the fort, Mrs. Steele." She assured her boss totally convincing. "Everything is going to be fine tomorrow. Just be ready to start early, Mr. Steele," she gave him a withering glance.

"We'll sure do, Mildred," he answered getting the picture. He should come up with a smart idea to soften things. The last time they had messed up things with Mildred at the agency, it had cost them a salary raise, and Laura didn't enjoy it at all. "Why don't we indulge the three of us with a good dinner? I'm not sure I'm in the mood to try on something elaborate at this stage of the evening, but we could enjoy something simple but tasty. What do you think, Mildred; want to join us?"

He was aware Mildred was never ready to say no to such a tempting invitation. He would find the way to secretly talk to her and beg for mercy, or maybe to make a pact. He was really eager to repeat the sailing experience, and without Mildred's help, he was going to have a hard chance at trying.

"I could do that. Raise the anchor, chief!" She said energetically.

If the day had been great instead of the slight difficulties they faced, the evening was going to be at least entertaining. He was going to need all his Captain charm to go through the possible storms it might carry. But with the two most important ladies in his life beside him, it was going to be a blast. Indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 _"Ladies and gentlemen,_ ** _welcome_** _to the JFK Airport._ ** _Local time_** _is 7:00 pm and the_ ** _temperature_** _is 48°F._

 _On behalf of Pan American Airlines and the entire crew, I'd like to_ ** _thank you_** _for joining us on this trip, and we are looking forward to seeing you on board again in the near future. Have a pleasant stay!"_

They'd been waiting for their suitcases for a long time, "Are we in the correct place, Mr. Steele? We were supposed to be retrieving our luggage on baggage claim, row 3."

"Well, it looks like our suitcases decided to be the last ones to come out then."

After all the suitcases were already retrieved by their owners, the Steele's luggage was still missing.

"They are not going to show up. I'm asking someone from the airline," said Laura.

"I'll remain here just in case they appear at the last minute," he told her. Noticing Laura's lousy temper was positively increasing; Mr. Steele suspected it was safer to keep his mouth closed as much as possible from then on.

When he spotted Laura walking back to where he was still standing, he realized the news she was bringing weren't auspicious.

"Well Mr. Steele, It seems our luggage decided Washington DC was a more appealing destination than New York. The airline will contact us once they have it sent back here. They suppose that will be happening tomorrow with any luck. They will take care of delivering it to our hotel as a personal favor. As I am not informed yet about which hotel we are booked for our stay in New York, I suggest you do the honors. Let's go to the cab stand. No sense in losing more time in this matter if we can have it used more efficiently. "

An hour and a half later, and after traveling for almost the whole day, they arrived at The Peninsula. Once Laura's frugality attack was back in check, they took the old elevator upstairs, and after what felt like the slowest ride of their lives in the old-fashioned elevator, they were finally able to open their hotel's room door. Although the sight of the bed was absolutely tempting after the exhausting day they experienced, Laura decided a call to Mildred was in order. Work was, as always, the first thing on her mind. She took off her shoes, sat down and started dialing.

In the meantime, after getting rid of his tie and testing the mattress quality with a couple of bounces, Mr. Steele made a detailed inspection of the room facilities while Laura remained busy on the phone. He opened the bathroom door and couldn't help but appreciate the black marble walls opposing the white bathtub, as an inspiring invitation. Room service and a deserved soak in the tub were his scheduled goals for the evening. Well, that and some other random activities he used to have in mind, not surprisingly, as often as his wife lately. They were not at the Waldorf Astoria, but the hotel amenities were as inspiring as the best he could think about….

The morning started early, not just because of Laura's rigid habits but because one bell boy knocked on the door announcing their luggage arrival first thing in the morning. Room service followed suit after a few minutes, and they worked along their day's plan through breakfast. By 9:30 AM, they were standing at the entry of the Lexington Avenue Subway Station.

"Are you sure the only way we have to get to Ann's is traveling underground, Laura? The hotel provides the clients with a convenient limousine service. And for free. It's not that Mildred will need to waste time deducting it."

"Mr. Steele, now listen to me. New York City is famous for its traffic. We experienced some of it last night while coming from the airport. It was really a very long ride. We need to find Ann as soon as possible, and Mildred gave us an address in Harlem, Amsterdam Avenue 788 to be exact. Now, as a limo ride will not work right now as fast as it should, we are free to walk about half of the city, or we can take the subway from here to the 96th Street Station and walk a couple blocks. Your choice…"

"My choice, eh… You leave me with no option, Laura. I'm not a subway element as you'd guess. Besides the lack of sightseeing, I found the underground experience sort of crowded. But I'm not going to walk half the city."

"You weren't uncomfortable in San Francisco when we tried to follow the _pretended client_ you provided the agency with, the only purpose to lead me to your arms for a romantic weekend. We did ride some crowded trolleys there if I remember well."

"By all means, Laura, that was absolutely different! San Francisco is by far a more romantic location. Don't tell me a crowded subway in New York can be compared to a crowded trolley in San Francisco."

"Depending on the company, Mr. Steele, crowded can be fun anywhere. Besides, we are working on a real case this time, aren't we? Let's wrap the case fast, and I promise you the most romantic New York farewell at The Peninsula."

"96th Street Station, eh?" Without wasting another second, he took the map from Laura's hand, grabbed her and turned to the subway stairs, leading the way.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The case they were working on had its origins as a favor to Mildred. One of her forever friends had finally decided, after a whole life working as a music teacher in California, to travel to New York and spend a season there enjoying theatre and opera. She started her adventure of renting a comfortable but austere apartment for two months and explored the city during that period without missing even one exciting spot. By the end of her stay, she discovered Atlantic City almost by accident. She tested her luck playing Black Jack for a couple of times, and surprisingly, left the table with a considerable amount of money in her hands. She phoned her friends in California to share the exciting news and to warn them that she would be staying in New York for some extra time thanks to her unexpected good luck. But after that call, nobody knew anything else about her. She wasn't answering their phone calls since a week ago, and Mildred, her closest friends, and other work colleagues were worried about her.

After the twisty subway tour with Mr. Steele never able to acknowledge their current location underground, they finally arrived at their destination.

"Try again, Mr. Steele."

"We've been ringing the bell for half an hour Laura, and nobody answered. There's nobody inside. If we want to get in, we need to trust in our abilities."

"I'm not sure it is a good idea to pick the lock, Mr. Steele. We are in plain sight, and there's that man at the shop next-door who didn't take his eyes from us since we arrived."

"In that case, the best we can do is to ask him."

They walked towards the man, and once Laura opened her mouth to start a conversation, the man turned and ran away as fast as possible. Mr. Steele followed him closely while Laura tried to keep the distance short, with not much luck. One block after, both men were out of her reach, so she decided to go back to Ann's building. She was not more than half a block away when she noticed a young lady dressed like a businesswoman carrying a bag full of groceries and struggling to put her key in the lock.

"Excuse me, do you live here? Can I ask you something?" asked Laura once she was close enough for the woman to hear.

Right at this moment, the key turned. Leaning on the door to keep it open the woman turned on her heels, "Sure." She left the bag on the floor and put the keys back in her purse.

"I'm looking for Ann Jenkins. She is renting a small apartment in this building for a while. Do you know her?"

"Ann Jenkins… It doesn't sound familiar. Perhaps you can ask Mrs. Parker. She is in charge of the building's maintenance and the mail delivery. If anybody knew the woman you're looking for, that would be Mrs. Parker. You'd probably have better luck asking her."

"Does Mrs. Parker live here?" asked Laura.

"She lives here, but she takes care of her grandchildren during the daytime and returns back home in the late afternoon," answered the young lady grabbing her groceries from the floor and, in a subtle way, ending their conversation. "Excuse me, but I'm in a hurry. I have to leave these groceries and run to work."

"Sure. Thank you for your time," answered Laura.

At that very moment, Laura felt someone on her back pushing her slightly to the side and coming into the dark foyer of the building in a rush. The young woman, who was still resting her back on the door, gave a look to the man and opened it wide offering no resistance, allowing him to come inside. Laura remained there until the woman came inside too and closed the door. A moment later, Mr. Steele came back from inside and opened the door for her.

"Subtle way to get inside…" Laura told him.

"How did you know the lady was going to let you in?"

"As a matter of fact Laura, I didn't know it for sure. But as you were distracting her enough with that professional style of yours, I took the chance."

"Good move, Mr. Steele," added Laura, rewarding him with a crooked smile, "What happened with the man?" she asked.

"He ran away towards Central Park. He was dressed better for speed, Laura. Maybe next time we'll have better luck."

"It's okay; we're inside the building after all. Let's look for Ann's place."

They climbed the stairs and found themselves in front of a corridor full of doors. Checking they were at the apartment they were looking for, they knocked on door number 24. After being there for a respectable amount of time without receiving an answer, Laura handed Mr. Steele the lock pick tools, and he opened the door. It was a tiny room, not luxury at all, but absolutely adorable. There was a table with some chairs on their left, an armchair with a reading light and a comfortable sofa on the right. The door to the bedroom was opened. Laura started looking for clues in Ann's closet. Everything seemed to be in order. All her clothes were hanging neatly. The shoes were in order too. In the meantime, while Laura remained in her area, Mr. Steele examined the books on the nightstand and opened its drawers. Nothing grabbed his attention.

"Everything seems to be in place in here, Laura," said Mr. Steele.

"All her things are here, and there's no trace of violence anywhere," added Laura.

She turned to the dresser at the foot of the bed. The only things there were some makeup items and a wooden box. She lifted the lid. It was a jewelry box, all lined in blue velvet; several pieces of jewelry inside … a pearl necklace, a small gold ring, and a diamond brooch.

"It seems Ann keeps her most valuable possessions here. This brooch looks like something taken off of a treasure box. Take a look," said Laura, showing the jewelry piece to Mr. Steele.

Mr. Steele grabbed the brooch in his hands and took his time to examine it. "It's a Cartier. Navette shaped outline, centered by a carved rock crystal circular panel, inset with a principal round brilliant cut diamond, to a pierced and mille grain set foliate cluster frame formed by a cartouche with elongated anthemion either side, set throughout with round cut diamonds. There's a serial number, possibly 725. It seems to be an original piece."

"And I thought it was a brooch… It must be a costly one," said Laura.

"Very, very expensive, Laura. If my experience is not failing me, we are talking about $50,000."

"What? That's not just expensive. That`s a fortune! What's Ann doing with this in her jewelry box?"

"That's not the question, Laura. The question is how this exquisite piece landed in her hands."

"Care to elaborate?"

"If my memory is not betraying me, this piece is part of The Bressan Collection."

"What's The Bressan Collection?"

"Paul Bressan was a man who made a fortune with auto parts. He worked beside Henry Ford at the very start, but at some point along the way, he decided to create his own business, and he built an empire selling auto parts to Chrysler. Even if his fortune was very well and discreetly invested inside and beyond the US, Bressan was better known for his love for art; jewelry art, to be precise. He owned one of the most valuable 1920's Cartier Jewelry Collections, worldwide. This piece seems to be a part of that collection."

"I see."

"I'm not sure it would be safe to leave it here if Ann is missing, Laura. Even if the apartment looks safe, this piece deserves to be treasured in a secure place. Let's take it with us and put it in the hotel safe." He put the brooch inside the box and grabbed it. Once he was ready to leave, Laura stopped him.

"You are right about taking it with us. But what if Ann comes back? She will think someone stole her jewelry box. Let's at least write her a note. If she comes back, she can get in touch." She wrote a note with the stationery she found inside the nightstand drawer and put it on the dresser, right in the place the box was resting barely minutes ago. The office phone number and Mildred's name were written on it for reassurance.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"I told you we're going to find her, Mildred. She wasn't in her apartment, but there was no trace of anything wrong there. If she left the place, she did it by her own decision. Now, try to contact your old colleague from the NYPD and check the hospitals…" Laura stopped, but Mildred knew the words that would follow, "…yes, and the morgue. I'm sure we'll find nothing there, but we have to follow the usual procedure, Mildred. I'll call you tomorrow. We`ll find her."

Laura finished the call and walked out of the room. She decided to join Mr. Steele, who was downstairs making a detour by the expensive jewelry shop beside the hotel entrance. A uniformed man opened the door, and she had an employee taking care of her the moment she put her foot inside the shop.

"Good afternoon madam, what can I do for you?" asked the smiling man behind the luxury display cases.

"I'm looking for my husband. He came a few minutes ago with a brooch to be appraised. He supposed you'd be able to do it."

"Of course madam, follow me. Your husband is with our Senior Jeweler. We can't have a magnificent piece like the one he was carrying on display here in the showroom. Security rules…"

The man's comment added more certainty to Laura about Mr. Steele's earlier appreciation about the brooch. They traveled along several corridors until arriving at a splendid and very private reception area. Laura waited there until the man opened the door for her and then joined her husband and the Senior Jeweler in his office.

Once there, she received the same explanation from the old man as the one Mr. Steele had given her in the afternoon, but with just one difference. A small detail that pushed the piece into an utterly different level.

"Cartier had introduced platinum into jewelry making in Europe, although it was already in use in Russia," told her the man, "Platinum is light and can be thin, while maintaining its flexibility, allowing for magnificent, almost invisible settings, but was challenging to work with because it could be brittle, and had a very high melting-point. The invention of the oxy-acetylene torch made it now possible to work more easily with this temperamental but invaluable metal. In this beautiful piece, the platinum settings had been modified. The original main brilliant cut diamond of the piece had been removed and replaced with one great fake stone, one of the best ones I've ever appreciated in all my life, might I add."

Just as Mr. Steele suspected, the critical detail didn't go unnoticed under the inspection of the jeweler's trained eyes. He had been right insisting upon bringing the piece here to be appraised after all.

They were back in their room, disillusionment and uncertainty filling the air. Mr. Steele was paying attention to some brochures the jeweler gave him before the end of their visit. Laura was still entranced by the brightness of the brooch, twirling it in her hand under the table lamp at the corner of the room.

"So, the brooch wasn't an original piece after all."

"The brooch is an original piece, Laura. What's not original is the main diamond. Did you ask Mildred to run a search on Paul Bressan?"

"She will have some information tomorrow." Laura stood up and left the piece in its own place, inside the wooden box.

Noticing her mood, he thought some distraction would help, "What do you say if we go out for dinner, Laura? We can't go back to Los Angeles without visiting at least one traditional place in New York."

She leaned back and turned to look at him, resting her arms on the chair's back, "Do you want to know what I would really love to do?"

Mr. Steele closed the brochures and gave her all his attention, "I'm listening."

"I'd love to go ice skating at the Rockefeller Center. The ice rink is already open. We can't do that in California, and I'd love to ice skate."

"Ice skating can be dangerous, Laura. What if we fall and hurt our backs, or have an ankle sprained?"

"Come on, Mr. Steele. Are you worried about someone watching you fall would doubt about your reputation?"

"What do you mean by _my reputation_?" He asked her.

"You're always looking like you came directly out of a fashion magazine, and although your agility has not been an issue in the past, you're a perfectionist, and ice skating can make you look like an amateur. Are you afraid to be surpassed by your wife's ice skating abilities?" She dared him a level stare.

She'd touched a nerve there. "Even if that's not the idea I had in mind, and just be certain I have no doubt about my wife's sporting abilities, I will be flexible. I think an evening at the Rockefeller Center ice rink can be arranged." An idea had come to his mind.

"We can grab something to eat later. The exercise will help to open up our appetite." She knew he would know the most appropriate place to go near Rockefeller Center.

"I don't need any exercise to increase my appetite, Laura. You should know by now."

"Sure I know, but I do. I was looking for your suggestion about the perfect place to go after."

Mr. Steele walked to Laura, helped her up from the chair and pulled her to him, "I have a proposition for you. Let's do it in your imaginative way tonight and give me carte blanche to do it in my particular way tomorrow." His arms surrounded her.

"Giving you carte blanche can be extremely dangerous and yet somehow tempting, Mr. Steele," answered Laura linking her arms on the back of his neck.

"Ice skating sounds pretty dangerous to me as well," he answered her, "And yet, I'm still interested in making an effort just to show you how the tempting part will overshadow the rest. Do we have a deal, Laura?"

"I think we do. Sealing time Mr. Steele."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Laura awoke the next morning with the phone ringing. As it could not be in any other way, it was Mildred. She shared with Laura the results of her research about Paul Bressan. As Mr. Steele had said, the man did accumulate an impressive Cartier collection through his long life. He`d passed away after his 86th birthday a few years ago. But it was not that fact that caught Laura's attention. While checking the man's family, Mildred had found Mr. Bressan had a son, and that they didn't share an easygoing relationship. Jean-Paul Bressan had a final fight with his father in the late 50`s, and after that, they'd never been in touch again. He'd even changed his last name to his mother's maiden name Martin, Paul Martin.

"What do we know about that man, Mildred?" asked Laura.

"He lives in New York cultivating a shallow profile, and he works at a theatre in the off-Broadway circuit at the moment. He is not married and owns a small apartment in Manhattan. He has no criminal records; banking history seems to be in order."

Laura suspected at that moment that Mildred's finding was the tip of the iceberg. It was a lot less than what they needed, but it was something to start with. They would have to link that information with Ann. Looking at her wristwatch, she noticed it was 9:45 in the morning. She looked at Mr. Steele; he'd remained asleep snoring slightly through the whole phone call. He hadn't moved even one muscle. Perhaps it was the perfect chance to try an early run through Central Park, she thought. She climbed out of bed and opened the heavy drapes. It was a glorious day. She felt him moving on the bed and turned, ready to invite him to go with her. But his movement was just the natural reaction of hiding his face from the light that the open drapes allowed to come inside the room. The exercise from the previous evening took its toll on him. The man was exhausted. Somehow the strength he tried to show at the ice rink, mixed with some hard falls, drained him. Add to that they'd stayed up late… He needed the sleep. No, he deserved it. She went through her belongings and grabbed a pair of running shoes and some sports clothes she had wisely added to her suitcase at the last minute, and started with her plan. She reminded herself to leave a note, just in case he decided to join her.

Central Park was at its best at this time of the year. The leaves were turning from green to an unbelievable pallet of yellows and reds. She crossed young people running and some older ones sitting on the benches enjoying the last warm mornings before the cold weather's arrival. A group of four women talking animatedly while riding their bikes passed by her side. After half an hour of running, she decreased her pace to appreciate the view. She was at the Gothic Bridge. New York in its full splendor was able to be discovered from there.

She stopped to drink some water and took a last moment to look at the magnificent view before starting her way back to the hotel. Mr. Steele was shaving in the bathroom when she arrived. Standing behind him she carefully put her arms around his waist, "You really should think about getting some more exercise in the morning. It's a wise way to start the day. Besides, I've missed you."

His thoughts precisely… Okay, what was the matter with him? Before she'd come along, he'd been perfectly content with his life. He dated – when he had time. He enjoyed life and made some sort of effort working when it suited him, _and_ the work was challenging enough. Serious commitment had always been an unnecessary state of mind, body, and soul, and didn't apply to him in the past. Serious exercise ran over the same path. Why would he be missing running with Laura? It was insane. However, he did miss it. He missed every activity that allowed him to share a good time with her, even if exercise was included. Well, mostly if exercise was included. Marathons had been unexpectedly refreshing lately. Who'd have guessed…?

"You know I'm trying, Laura. Don't forget last night it was my ice skating premiere. Add to that our late not precisely demure neither static later entertainment… All I can say is that I needed the sleep. I'll join you tomorrow, I promise." He cleaned the soap off his face, put on some aftershave, turned around and kissed her lightly on her lips on his way to the room where he started to arrange his attire for the day. "Should I ask for room service or we're having breakfast downstairs?" When she didn't answer, he turned to her. His eyes made a detour by the shower and its attractive occupant. "Laura?" Realizing she was not listening through her singing, and that the idea that was starting to grow in her mind was not the cleverest one if they wanted to be ready anytime soon, he abandoned the bathroom reluctantly.

At twelve o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. Steele's hand hovered over Ann's doorbell again. And again, there was no response.

"Nobody's going to open the door here. Perhaps we should try at Mr. Martin's job. Mildred called and gave us his address while you were blow drying your hair," he told her.

"Oh. You didn't tell me. Where does he work?"

"Second Stage Theatre, 305 West 43rd Street, on the corner of 8th Avenue."

"I've never heard about that theatre…"

"It's sort of new. Less than ten years on the off-Broadway circuit."

"Okay, I'm following your steps this time, Mr. Steele. Let's check about your subway knowledge improvement." She took the subway map from her purse and handed it to him.

He took the map in his hand, re-folded it and put it in his pocket. "Let's try a detour upon the earth for a change, Laura. There's a lot to see. Besides, I'm starting to feel myself as a rodent, circulating all day by those dark tunnels." Putting his hand on the small of her back they started their way to their destination, walking the streets of New York.

They arrived at the theatre and were told that Mr. Martin did work at the theatre but was on vacation at the moment. Although the staff member gave them his address, he warned them he was not supposed to be at home. He told them Mr. Martin spoke to him about buying some airplane tickets but couldn't remember where to.

"So, what's next?"

"Next, my dear Laura… we're having lunch at the Old Town Bar; reasonable prices and casual and unpretentious ambiance. Let's grab a cab. Even if we're not too far, I'm not in the mood for walking anymore. My exercising quote is fulfilled for today. I'd like to keep my strength for our next exercising challenge if you don't mind."

Once they arrived at the Bar, Laura understood why Mr. Steele decided to go there. Over the years, many people have come into the Old Town, looked around and asked. .. _Wasn't this the bar in…?_ The bar had been used in many movies, television shows, and commercials.

"I realize why you were interested in coming here. This place smells of movie history", said Laura.

"The Devil's Own, State of Grace, and a few more had been featured in here, Laura. But that was not the main reason I brought you here."

"And which would be the reason then?"

"Celebrities like to come here, and they never got put in the paper. It's a very private place."

"I've never known privacy bothered you a lot…"

At this very moment, the waiter arrived. He handed them the menus. Noticing Laura's fedora resting on the seat beside her, he smiled. "Do you like classic movies?" he asked her.

Laura put her menu down and looked at the young man, then at her hat. "Sure, I do love classics."

"I love classic movies too. That's why I work here. The place has history! And there's always the chance to meet some big screen stars. We have very loyal clients. If you're interested, I can bring you our _not celebrity but celebrat_ e book to take a look. You'll not believe the people that have been seated at this very same table."

"Sounds interesting," added Laura flashing the young man a broad smile.

"Have you visited the Gramercy Theatre? They always showcase something interesting these days. You might go there after lunch. I've heard about their terrific second-run films in the late afternoon."

At that very moment, Mr. Steele, who had been listening to the whole exchange, not too surreptitiously decided that he wasn't comfortable with that young man flirting with his wife in front of his face. "We are ready to order if you don't mind," he said in a very nonchalant way.

"Sure, shall I recommend you our burger, _The Mayor's Choice_? It's grilled to your liking and served on a soft sesame bun with lettuce, tomato, and onion –on the side. All burgers and sandwiches include your choice of fries, potato salad or coleslaw."

"Hmm, interesting, I think we are taking the Caesar Salad, double dressing and no anchovies if you don't mind; and two pints of Guinness. That's all. We're in a hurry, so if you please, can you bring our drinks? That would be absolutely fantastic. There you go."

The young man wrote the order and took off without opening his mouth again.

"You were awful with that poor kid. And I didn't want to eat a salad. I wanted a hamburger. Why did you place the order not only not checking, but without even looking at me to confirm your choice? We are already at the place you chose. Please be a little more polite with the young man once he comes back."

He stared at her for a brief moment. "That young man was staring at you. He was flirting with you in front of my eyes. And you were flirting back, Laura."

"The young man was just being polite and offering some decent conversation while you were totally immersed in the menu. Or you seemed to be. I guess your attention was not in the reading but in eavesdropping on my conversation with him. As if you would find something interesting enough that deserved to be eavesdropped…"

"I was not eavesdropping."

"Well, it does look as if you were. We were talking about movies, classic movies. You're the one most interested in that stuff if I recall."

They made silence once they beers arrived. The waiter put a white paper napkin under each of the pint glasses and left them without saying a word. It was clear he'd noticed the nasty tone in Mr. Steele's previous words. They grabbed their drinks and had a sip trying to get out of the ugly moment.

"When did you start to be interested in classic movies?" asked Laura.

"I'm not sure when exactly. About fourteen, I guess."

"What caught your interest? It's not usual to be interested in that sort of movie while being that young."

"It all started when winter arrived, and I had no place to go after school. The town theatre was warm inside, and I had a good friend at the kiosk, who would hand me something to eat under the counter. It became a routine. And after a few weeks, I began to pay attention to the big screen and stayed inside watching until the last showing was over. It was weird, somehow. But I got trapped by the glamour and the style of the classic films instead of being attracted by the Cowboys' performance. Perhaps there were too many real _cowboys_ in my real surroundings back then…"

She was lost in thoughts _._ Life had been hard for him. But somehow, he'd found the way to survive.

"Life sometimes has a strange way of giving you what you need when you least expect it," she told him.

He gave her his signature crooked smile, "I realize."

"Would you like to go to that Gramercy Theatre after lunch?"

"Why Laura, are you trying to replay our last heated experience in a movie theatre in LA?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Laura's cheeks turned red, and she purposely skipped his eyes.

"So, just going for the classic type of performance… That can work likewise."

They ate their meal and decided to attend the afternoon function after all. The film, _Smiles of a Summer Night_ wasn't one of his favorite ones, but the company undoubtedly was. The afternoon was winding down when they left the theatre. His _carte blanche evening_ was ready to start.

He closed the room door after hanging the _Do not disturb_ sign on the doorknob. Walking toward her at his own personal pace, seduction was implied in every movement. But Laura remained standing in front of the dresser, absent from his intentions, her eyes nailed in Ann's jewelry box. She had her coat still on. With a slight movement, he helped her to slide it from her shoulders and threw it on the nearby chair, his own overcoat following suit. Laura closed the distance to the box and opened it. All the clues they counted on to find Ann were resting in that beautiful wooden box; Ann's pearls necklace, the golden ring, and the brooch. Laura opened the lid of the box and grabbed the ring in her hand. The red stone was as shiny as ever, capturing the tenuous dim of the light. After a moment she put it back in its place, feeling his breath on her neck while his left arm came around her waist right at the moment the box was closed. She laid her hand over his and turned her head slightly allowing him to kiss her neck.

"We are one more time in the beginning," Laura said, resignation concealed in her voice.

"Would it be that bad? It happened before, and it didn't stop us."

"I know, but this time I feel that we are failing not just to us, or to the agency, but to Mildred, as well." Laura turned into his embrace, resting her forehead on his chest. He held her tight and rested his chin atop her head.

"We are not failing Mildred. We are doing as much as we can. We've been in this position in different opportunities before and we've always been able to crack the case even while starting it over and over more than several times."

"I know. It's just… I'm sort of disappointed…"

"You shouldn't be. The fact that every road we have taken has led us to discover nothing doesn't mean we don't have some new options to explore in the future. We are here, we are a team; we can do it. We'll find Ann."

Laura exhaled a sigh, "Thank you for tonight. The concert was beautiful. I can't imagine how you managed to get those tickets in your hands in such short notice. It's almost impossible to get them once the season is freshly opened, and don't tell me Mildred did it because I heard the bellboy when he brought them to you earlier."

"I've still got my resources, Laura. And a New York Philharmonic performance is not that unforgettable. It can be attended at any time. "

"A gala night at Carnegie Hall is not easy to forget for me."

"Any gala night at Carnegie Hall is not memorable enough for me in comparison to a night beside you, enjoying it."

"I guess you mean it…"

"I do mean it." He dropped a kiss on her forehead, "What about me? Does a gala night at Carnegie Hall feel more impressive than a night with me?"

"Let me think…"

He leaned back, "Really, Laura?"

She rolled her eyes, "Listen to me. Although a simple night at Carnegie Hall would remain in my memory for years to come, a night with you there beside me will be unforgettable too; Gala night or not."

"Which part of the evening did you like the most?"

"The opening was magnificent. And the Second Act was out of this world. But sincerely, the most special part for me comes usually with the encores… Once you think the magic of the concerto is already behind, the performers find a way to surprise you with another stunning piece."

"Encores, eh? I didn't know they had such impact on you."

"Why, yes, Mr. Steele. I love encores."

"I see…"

He lifted her chin so that her eyes were looking right into his, and slowly lowered his lips to hers. His first kiss was almost tentative, on the corner of her lips. Then he stopped and closed his eyes, leaned his forehead against hers. "You are absolutely enchanting, Laura."

Not welcoming the new distance between their mouths after his brief invitation, Laura rose up her hand and pulling him down, drew his lips down onto hers. The encounter was intimate, agonizingly slow and hot. She opened to him, and he took the invitation. In just a moment there was no unsolved case, no orchestra performance, no Mildred interrupting; nothing but the two of them executing their bodies at the best of their tempos, vibrating with the exuberant magnificence of their kiss until they broke for breathe.

Laura bit her lip. She started working on his shirt, button by button until her hand found a bare, warm chest. He slipped the straps of her gown from her shoulders and dipped his head to kiss her collarbone. Laura closed her eyes and leaned back, sighing with pleasure. He smiled at her surrender, and in a swift motion unzipped her dress, a task he delivered with absolute precision, like the theft artist he was. He pulled the dress down the rest of the way, until it fell to the floor, around Laura's feet. She stepped aside and took off her shoes. Taking advantage of the new distance between them, he discarded his shirt, too. The rest of his formal attire fell to the floor within a second. Laura slipped her hands under his waistband and got rid of the last interference. Once the barriers between them were off, he gently pushed Laura onto the bed and lowered his body over hers.

"You are incredible, Laura. The more I look at you, the more enchanted I am. There's no piece of art or masterful performance able to enchant me the way you do."

He lowered his mouth to hers, his hands moving incredibly slowly down her body. Their kiss was an agonizing battle, both of them the most eager participants in the same surrender. His eyes were closed. He felt the raising of her hips, her hands moving restlessly over his hair and down his back. She broke the kiss and held his face in her hands, until he finally opened his eyes and looked at her, her eyes never leaving his.

"Love me tonight?" she asked, reaching up and lovingly caressing his cheek.

He lowered his head and gave her the most beautiful and tender kiss she had ever known.

"Love you forever."

They were quiet, not sleeping but content. He was stroking her hair, his fingers tangling through the strands.

"We are stuck," she told him.

"Of course we are," he answered her, "And it's my hope we stay in that way."

She lifted her head from his shoulder, "I'm not speaking about us. I was speaking about the case."

"Oh."

"Do you really feel like you are stuck with me?"

"Well, I'd like to put it in a slightly different way… Remember that my original idea after we cracked up the Hunter case together was leaving. I was ready to leave. But I came back. I decided to be stuck at the agency. I'm stuck with you by decision, Laura, not by imposition. He kissed the top of her head. "What about you? Do you feel you're stuck with me?"

"Well… In the beginning, it felt like that, maybe. You were the stranger that took up over my agency name by force. But at some point, I realized that I was getting comfortable being stuck with you. And it became clear after a while that I was more than comfortable being in that position. I guess I just liked to play a little stubborn for a while."

"A little stubborn, you?"

She chuckled against his chest. "Oh, come on! You can count that as one of my assets from time to time. Can't you?"

"I loved your stubbornness from the beginning, Laura. It's one of the particularities of your colorful personality that led me to stay. Imagine how boring could have been if you were an accepting woman. No discussion, no making up after our little quarrels… What a waste of fun."

"Sometimes I wonder if we're going to have fun working together forever. It scares me just to think about it."

"Don't think about it, then. There's no chance. You're really stuck with me, Laura. I'm not leaving anywhere."

"I know. But life sometimes surprises you. Some things don't remain like you planned them, untouched forever. There could be slight changes, barely perceptible changes that can take all the worth from something without leaving a trace in plain sight. And once you realize them, then it's too late. Take Ann's brooch for example. We were sure it was an original piece until an expert told us the truth; that it wasn't. Maybe she didn't realize it. Or maybe she does, and she's hiding it from the rest of us." They remained in silence until Laura turned on the light and got up from the bed, "I'll be right back," she told him.

She came back carrying the jewelry box. Throwing all its contents on the bed, she gave him the box. Her attention remained captivated again by the brooch. He grabbed it from her hands and started a closer examination. Once he turned the box upside down, the blue velvet bottom of the inside fell down on the sheets, along with a folded piece of paper.

Laura left the brooch and grabbed the paper in her hands, unfolded it and began reading. "Who's Desiree Armfeldt?" A half-smile crossed her face, her eyes still on the paper.

"What?" asked Mr. Steele.

"Desiree Armfeldt. This looks like a script's sheet."

"Desiree Armfeldt… Smiles of a Summer Night, 1955, it's an Ingmar Bergman movie. William Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream" served as the inspiration for the film's plot and tone. Desiree Armfeldt was an actress. Desiree and Fredrik used to be lovers, and once they met again after some years, she discovers the two of them still have feelings for each other. Why do you ask?"For a full moment, Laura didn't move at all. When she raised her eyes finally meeting him, he saw the thrill in there. She'd found something. Relief flooded his body.

"Send in the Clowns," was all she was able to say.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

She found her usual table with no trouble, even in the darkness of the place. As usual, it was the empty one closest to the piano, slightly to the left. Once she was barely seated, a waitress left a scotch on the table, as if on cue. She nodded in acknowledgment. Some minutes later the lights on the stage announced he was making his entrance. She raised the glass and had a sip. He was shy as always over his presentation. Then, once his fingers rested on the keyboard, he closed his eyes, and she closed hers.

She didn't realize the performance was almost over until the chords of the song started to sound. It was her song, the song she had performed that day when she auditioned back in the early 70's. He'd been the pianist on stage. And for the time the song was coming alive from his piano, she had been his Desiree. She was living her dream, auditioning in front of the Great Steven Sondheim, and getting his acknowledgment gesture after a beautiful performance. Once the piece had been over, she'd looked to the pianist, and he'd looked back at her. They'd met backstage, not knowing it was never going to be the same for either of them.

.

The sound of the applause brought her back from her reverie. He stood up from the bench, made his usual salute to the audience, and surprisingly, got down from the stage right to her table. She straightened in her chair. She'd attended several of his performances through the years. Different times, different places, but always at the same table; the special one he had reserved for her; the one on the left. She was sure he had noticed she was there more than once. But he had never acknowledged or come back to her table since that unforgettable evening. He had never come back to where he once intended to be, to her side. Until tonight.

"May I sit down?" he asked.

She raised her eyes from her glass. He was older for sure, but still handsome and tall, with a slight but fit body and gray hair surrounding his green eyes. A few wrinkles here and there accentuating his beautiful face. "Sure. I've been waiting for you asking that for a long time."

He raised his hand to the waitress to refill Ann's drink and to bring another scotch for him.

"So, you still close your performances with that one after all these years…"

"I do." He raised his eyes from the table to meet hers; "So, you still come to listen to it after all these years?" He smiled lovingly at her. "How are you, Ann?"

She swallowed the last of her scotch, in a desperate search for courage.

"I'm fine. I've been spending some time in New York, on vacation. I couldn't leave without listening to your piano."

"And I thought you've come to see me…" He snorted.

"That too," she added smiling. "How are you?" she raised her eyes from her glass and asked him adoringly.

"I'm good, trying to fill my existence with music after you decided to be out of it. Hard task, I may say."

"Don't say that, please. You are still on Broadway, and you're still playing the piano. Those two things are not small. You are living a wonderful life," she said.

Their scotch arrived, and they shared a silence until they were alone again.

"I missed you," he said.

"I missed you too. But looking at you playing the piano from time to time made it easier."

"Seeing you at the table from time to time did make it easier for me, too. Or hardest, who am I fooling?" He gave her a sad smile this time. "I heard you divorced Robert a few years ago."

"Things weren't working. We decided we were wasting precious time. We remained friends, though."

"Of course, he was a fool, but not that foolish to lose you."

She grabbed his hand between hers. The ring was still on her right hand, he noticed. He had put it on her left one initially. But when she decided she was going back to California after not getting the role, after auditioning for a long time for different characters without success, he had made her promise they would fix things. But she'd asked him to follow with his life, playing the piano here in New York. And she would try to follow hers at home, in California and that they would meet again in the future if life allowed them to find a right time.

It took her more time than she intended until she found the courage to figure out her mistake. And then, when she'd begun to come to Paul's performances a few years ago, he realized what a fool he had been; and that he was scared about facing her. Until tonight.

"Let the past rest in the past where it belongs, Paul. We're here now." Grabbing hold of her hand, Paul pulled her to a stop. But she went on, "I'm sorry about what happened all those years ago. I didn't mean to hurt you." Her hand felt soft and warm against his skin.

"I know you didn't. But I'm glad that at least, after all these years, you were still faithful to your promise. You came back."

"A lot happened since the last time we spoke, Paul. Life… I never thought I'd find the courage to be speaking to you again." She stared at him with sad eyes. "But I'm here, and I don't want our next time together to be unbearable for either of us. We've missed enough time. "

He had another sip of his scotch. "I'm glad you came."

"I'm glad I came, too. There's always a second chance, Paul. Between the two of us, we should be able to work something out. How does friendship sound for a start?" Her hand rubbed the back of his hand.

He remained in silence, his eyes fixed on their joined hands.

"Paul?"

His gaze swept up her body to her frowning face, "Friends sounds good." With a sinking heart, he realized their life would be like this for some time until they worked it out. "For a start." He smiled at her.

"For a start," she smiled him back.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Once they'd supposed they were off for the night, they had to run off from the hotel to make it there in time.

"Are you sure it is here?" Laura checked the address.

"That's what the woman at the hotel bar said. That it was known he used to spend his vacations playing his piano at this place."

When they entered the bar and went downstairs, he was still on the stage, performing. They found a free table at the back of the room and sat down.

"At least we are in front of half of the case, Laura. He's not bad at the piano, eh?"

"He's perfect. And for your information, we have the full case in front of us, Mr. Steele. Take a look at that table."

He raised his eyes and found Ann Jenkins, barely visible in the darkness of the place. Just a bright spark reflecting from her hands betrayed her unnoticed presence there.

"Take a look at the sparkle on her hand, Laura. I think we've just found our missing diamond."

"Are you sure? Why would she take the diamond off the brooch to have it put it on a ring?"

"Who says she did it?"

Laura looked at him in acknowledgment. "You're right."

"Remember the man was not rich. That brooch was part of his father's private collection. So, perhaps it would have been in Mrs. Bressan's hands until she passed away…"

"Or in his son's hands if she decided to leave it to him. It looks like an engagement ring, but on the wrong hand."

"It looks like that."

They were ready to approach Ann's table once the performance was over, but Mr. Steele grabbed Laura's arm, "Wait, Laura. He's walking to her table."

"It looks like a very private moment. Perhaps we should let them talk."She added.

They waited until the conversation was over and Paul left Ann's table. They approached her, "Ann Jenkins?" asked Laura.

"Miss Holt?" asked Ann, "Sit down, please. I found your note on my dresser."

"We have your jewelry box. As we didn't know where you were, we were worried it would be dangerous to leave it there in your apartment. We took it with us and put it in the hotel safe."

"It's okay. Thank you. I knew we were probably going to meet sometime soon. Besides, I always carry the real thing on my finger." She raised her hand showing them, at the same time looking at Laura's left hand and noticing her beautiful ring. "Mildred is right about you two. You make a lovely couple."

"Thank you," answered Laura.

"Just take some advice from an old lady. Don't let life's deceptions interfere between you. Once they get in the middle, it's hard to put things back in place."

"I'm glad we found you, Ann," said Mr. Steele, "Mildred is worried about you."

"I'm sorry I disappeared. But I needed some time alone to find the courage and make things right at least."

"Did it work?" asked Laura, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, it worked. Did you enjoy Paul's performance?"

"It was a precious delight," answered Laura.

"Send in the Clowns," Ann almost whispered. "That piece was the beginning. We met when I was auditioning here in New York performing that song. He was at the piano. A long time ago…"

"It still is the beginning," answered Laura.

Ann looked at the empty stage, a tear dripping down her cheek, "Sure it is, sure it is"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 _"This is the final boarding call for Pan Am passengers Laura Holt and Remington Steele, booked on flight PA90 to Los Angeles. Please proceed to gate 16 immediately. The final checks are being completed, and the captain will order for the doors of the aircraft to close in approximately five minutes time. I repeat. This is the final boarding call for Pan Am passengers Laura Holt and Remington Steele. Thank you."_

"I can't believe this is happening again," said Laura between pants, "I told you we needed to leave earlier, but no, you convinced me we had enough time. This is New York."

"I want to be back in LA as soon as possible, Laura. I miss the Rabbit."

"You miss the Rabbit?" she asked him incredulously.

"In a sort of way, I miss the limo too. But the Rabbit comes Fred-free." He wriggled his eyebrows at her.

"You are incorrigible, you know that?" she couldn't hide her smile this time.

They arrived at the gate and boarded their flight barely on time. Once all the rush was over, and after the exquisite dinner was served, the lights of the cabin went off. Laura reclined her seat and closed her eyes, thinking her husband would do the same. But then he turned on his personal light and disclosed some brochures from the front seat pocket.

Laura noticed the jewelry brochures from their visit to the hotel's exclusive jewelry, "What are you looking at there? Your extravagance quota is off for the next twenty years, Mr. Steele."

"There are a couple of interesting pieces I would like to study," was his evasive response.

That picked her attention if not for the amusing part, for danger, "What interesting pieces?"

"Well, there's that classic wristwatch collection…"

She stared at him incredulously, "Are you serious? These are thousand dollar watches!"

"You have to appreciate jewelry as an investment Laura, not as a waste," he told her, his eyes not leaving the brochure.

"Besides, you already have a Cartier on your wrist," she added.

"There's an Omega on yours if I'm not wrong…"

She was still staring at him when the flight attendant came along and asked him, "Everything okay, sir? May I offer you anything else?"

He raised his eyes from the reading material to the woman and felt Laura's elbow sinking in his ribs. Then turned his face back to Laura, "Everything is okay, thank you," he smiled at the woman.

"There we go again," said Laura rolling her eyes…

"I'll bring you an extra blanket and pillow, just to get you comfortable." And with these words, she turned around and left.

"Do you really need an extra blanket and another pillow? Laura asked him.

"Well, she didn't give me the chance to refuse, you saw it! Besides, this might be our last first-class flight for a while, so we should take advantage of the included benefits." He flashed Laura one of his signature smiles.

"Oh. What do you have in mind, Mr. Steele?"

He retrieved the brochures to the front seat pocket, turned off his personal light, reclined his seat to the lower position and wriggled his eyebrows at her.

"We're not doing anything like that here, Mr. Steele. It's a cabin full of passengers, for Christ sake. It is absolutely inappropriate. Go to sleep!" Laure felt herself blushing in the dark.

"Precisely Laura, that's my intention. As we're arriving in LA in the early morning, we need our sleep to confront a day full of activity, don't you think?"

"But tomorrow's Saturday. We are not going to the office."

"Who said it was work activity I was speaking about? Have a nice flight home, Mrs. Steele."

She couldn't help but chuckle, "Goodnight Mr. Steele."


End file.
